


The Watchers

by meeshtiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-11
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-11-25 03:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/634458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meeshtiel/pseuds/meeshtiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer isn't the only being to rise if the seals are broken.  The angels are forced to turn to Cat Inoa, who has the knowledge to stop the Nephilim from rising.  But they're hiding something, and she knows it.  Along with her angel, she teams up with the Winchesters to stop the Apocalypse, and learns some secrets along the way about her sister's sudden death.  Events take place shortly after 4.16 "On the Head of a Pin."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 March 7, 2003  
Alexandria, Virginia

  
Cat would have preferred that her sister go anywhere else for spring break.  Of all of the places to choose, she had picked Alexandria, Virginia, as her destination. She would never understand why her sister would want to come back.  
  
Her sister told her over chat that her friends had been pestering her to travel with them to Florida for their week long break, but she vehemently turned them down.  Apparently coming back to the place she hated the most was more interesting than examining the well-formed asses of the local Floridian men.  If Cat was a second year graduate student, she would have picked Florida over boring Virginia, considering the substantial amount of rain pouring outside.

She sat alone, hunched over her computer wearing an oversized gray sweater, typing up a paper for her Biology class.  Every time voices rose downstairs she would wince, her shoulders becoming tense, and her fingers fell still while she waited to hear what would happen next.  She wanted to rush downstairs and see what was happening, but according to the clock on her computer screen, her mother would be up in twenty minutes to make sure she was writing her paper.    
  
Dalia, her older sister, had been home only two days, and already the fights between her sister and their parents had started without delay.  The argument generally centered about the same subject matter, that being Dalia’s decision to study religion at university.  Dalia - smart and headstrong - made the decision without much deliberation, and her parents hated her for it.  Their parents didn’t necessarily need to say anything, but Dalia knew that her parents were forever disappointed in her decision to study “non-existent angels” over mechanical engineering.  
  
But Dalia was too stubborn.  She'd always been that way.  She was the one who wore brightly colored tights, usually neon pink, underneath her school skirts, and sang loudly in the hallways without caring who was listening.  She would approach students at random in school, carrying a large sketchpad, and inform them that she wanted to draw their faces. She never did anything anyone expected.

So when Dalia announced to her a few years ago that she was studying religion, all Cat could do was give her a smile and say, “Whatever makes you happy, Dee.”  And that was all she truly cared about: making sure her sister was happy.  Dalia was the older sister, but when it came to her happiness, Cat always made sure she came first.

Cat shifted uncomfortably in her wooden computer chair and squinted at the glowing computer screen in front of her.  Her chair was never comfortable, and even though she’d pestered her parents for years to buy a more comfortable one, they refused, claiming that their money had to go towards Dalia and her college degree.  Over time, she'd learned to deal with the back pains for Dalia's sake.

"It's my fucking life, and if you have a problem with it, that's too bad!"

Cat tensed again, her eyes darting to her bedroom door.  _I wish this would just end.   Just go away, Dee.  Go to Florida._ She could deal with their stuffy parents for three more years; she’d managed for sixteen.

Halfway through her second body paragraph, Cat heard the front door close, and the sound echoed throughout the house.  She jumped in her chair, her gaze turning to her bedroom door.  In a matter of seconds, she was at the top of the stairs, and sank into a crouch, peering around the angle where the ceiling and banister met, to look into the living room.  Her parents stood in front of the large, wooden door where presumably, Dalia had just rushed out of.  They stood next to each other, and then her mother sighed, her frail shoulders dropping.  Her father rushed to her side, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and murmuring words she couldn’t understand, directed her mother to the kitchen. 

Her mother was still shaking her head when they disappeared.  Cat looked once more at the front door, through the small window that showed the street outside.  Wherever Dalia had gone, she had left in a hurry.  All she could see was the house across the street, and the quickly falling rain outside. 

Anger bubbled up and spilled over; she turned on her heel and went back upstairs to her room.  Again, her parents had managed to drive Dalia away.  When were they ever going to learn that she just wasn’t going to listen?  She was too headstrong, too determined.  If they kept pressuring her to abandon her dreams, it would only drive Dalia away, and one day she wouldn’t return. 

Cat knew though, that even if Dalia did leave, she would come back, and it’d be for her.  Dalia often promised that once she had a nice, high-paying job as a research, she would come find Cat and take her home.  Together they would have movie nights and eat ice cream and laugh.  They wouldn’t have to worry about their mother, with her sharp facial features and beady little eyes, watching them.  They would both be happy.

"Finished your paper?"

Her mother's soft voice from behind caused Cat to jump, and she turned quickly in her chair to see her mother standing over her with crossed arms.  How had she managed to enter Cat's room without a sound?  Her mother had the tendency to announce her arrival with the sounds of heels clicking on the wooden floor.

She looked down.  Her mother wore white socks.

"Yeah," Cat responded, her voice shaky still.  She glanced pointedly at her computer screen.  "It's okay. Finished a while ago, I'm just proofreading it now."  She picked off an imaginary piece of lint off her sweatpants."

"What's 'okay?'"

"That means it's a sufficient paper.  Where's Dalia?" Cat waited for an answer. 

Her mother took a while to respond, and Cat realized it was because she was reading her paper on the computer screen, even though Cat had just told her it was finished.

"She went out."

"Out where?  It's cold and it's raining."

"Out," her mother responded, her tone cold.  "On her own terms, like she's always done.  When you're finished, print out a copy and leave it on the kitchen table for me to look at.  Your father is in the den watching television.  Don't disturb him."

_This fucking woman,_ Cat thought, glaring at her mother's retreating back.  Once she'd left her room and entered her own, Cat reached into her drawer and pulled out her phone.  It was supposed to be put away after seven o'clock for homework, but Cat usually kept it on in case of an emergency.  She sent a quick text and tucked her phone into her sweatshirt pocket.  _Where are you?_

_Out.  
_

_Out where?  
_

_Out for a walk.  
_

_Why?  
_

It took Dalia a while to respond, and it made Cat nervous.  When her phone buzzed, she sighed with relief. 

_You know I came home to tell you guys about this research position I accepted? It's over at a university in England.  I wanted to celebrate with you all.  No one gives a damn._

_I do.  You know that.  
_

_Yeah.  
_

_Dad's in the den.  Come home soon? And be careful.  It's dark.  
_

_I know, Cat.  I'll be fine.  
_

* * *

Later that night, the Inoas received a call from the Alexandria Police Department.  Cat had been slowly drifting into sleep, her mother had been asleep for at least an hour, and Bill Inoa had been sitting downstairs in the den on the computer, searching online for mechanical engineering programs for Dalia.  He hoped that she would soon see the light.  How much longer would he have to tell his friends that his daughter studied angels for a living?

He let the phone ring twice before picking it up, assuming that the Police Department was trying to harass him for not paying parking tickets. 

He hadn't expected to hear a gruff voice on the other end tell him that his eldest daughter had been in a fatal car accident when an SUV ran a red light.

Cat was woken roughly by her father.  "Dalia's been in an accident.  We have to go."

She threw on whatever she could find, fingers shaking and her thoughts a jumbled mess.  She stumbled down the stairs after her father, repeatedly sending the same text to Dalia: _Are you okay?_

Her mother was in the car already, staining the steering wheel with her tears.  Her inhuman wails were painful to listen to, and her father eventually shoved her into the passenger's seat before reversing out of the garage and into the pouring rain.

_That's what it was, probably,_ Cat thought, staring out of the window and into darkness.  _He probably didn't see.  It is really dark._ She kept her grip tight on her phone, waiting endlessly for the buzz that never came.  She blocked out the sounds of her parents blaming each other; they should have listened to her more, they shouldn't have pushed her so much.  They talked about Dalia as if she was already dead.  

The argument continued as they turned on to Jericho Street, where the accident had happened.  Even as they got out of their 4-person SUV, her parents continued to point fingers, their voices becoming louder and angrier.  Cat slid out of the car seat and into the frigid rain that fell at astounding speeds, blinding her vision.  The flashing red and blue lights guided them to the scene. 

There was the large, black SUV, the kind that celebrities escaped from parties in.  There was an ambulance and four police cars, complete with their own police officer, somber looks on their faces, and a crying man who knelt on the wet pavement, staring at the white shteet that covered Dalia's body.  His wails matched her mother's.  He sobbed repeatedly to the police officer that he had no memory of what happened, how he couldn't even remember hitting her.  Two of the police officers began to walk towards them.

Cat walked towards the white sheet, ignoring her parents' protests and stopped a few meters short of the pool of blood that mixed with the rainwater.  The two liquids swirled around together as they flowed into the drain nearby.

She let the cold rain soak through the sweater Dalia had given her for her 16th birthday, her jumbled thoughts finally coming to a halt, until they formed one single, resounding one.  Dalia was dead, and she was on her own.  She lowered herself to the ground and sat on the nearby sidewalk.  She didn't leave until the coroners had taken Dalia's body away.

 

 

 March 19, 2009 (Present)  
Alexandria, Virginia

  
Cat’s cell beeped for the third time.  She reached into her pocket and spared it a casual glance, looking for a name.  _Dom_ , the screen displayed.

She pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose and tucked the phone back into her pocket.  Her computer required more attention.

Dom had called her at least twice today, and she studiously ignored him, choosing instead to scroll endlessly through pages of text.  It was the weirdest thing; even though she purposely put on her Facebook page that she was going to spend the whole day studying, people continued to call her and bombard her with texts, asking to go to lunch or go to the mall.  It’s not rocket science. 

She sat alone in her room, her laptop in front of her, a notepad to her right and a pen in her hand, with piles of books on her desk surrounding her.  Being surrounded by books made her feel studious.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she clicked on another link that would take her to another webpage, hopefully with more information on Enochian sigils.  Cat chewed absently on the end of the pen, devouring the information.

For most of the day she stayed in her apartment, sometimes leaving her room for a quick snack.  Since eight in the morning, she’d been pouring over old photocopies of the journal of John Dee, a European explorer who supposedly made contact with angels and learned their language.  She’d managed to make some copies of his journal a few months ago during a stay in England where she interned as a research assistant.  It was the trip of a lifetime.

It was also Dalia's trip, the one she was supposed to take before she died.  She wanted to tell them all, but her parents blew it all to hell and sent her running, which got her killed.  To extract her revenge, Cat went to the University of Virginia instead of MIT, and changed her major from mathematics to religion. Her parents exploded, but she refused to let them belittle her, and graduated with several degrees.  To anger them further, she cut her hair, and had been wearing a pixie cut ever since.  The few friends she had commented that it highlighted her sharp facial features, and drew attention to her blue eyes.

Cat’s phone beeped again and she groaned, pulling it out of her pocket to see who it was.  _Dr. Leveque?_   “Hello?”

“Good morning, Catherine,” Robert Leveque’s voice boomed from the other end of the line.  “How are you today?”

Cat couldn’t help but smile at the sound of her old religion professor.  “Good, Dr. Leveque, how are you?”

“Great.  Listen, I was just calling to check up on you, see how you’re doing!  How’s the research coming?”  Cat’s eyes darted to the half-empty notebook on the table, filled with her scratchy handwriting. 

“Good, good...” she murmured.  “Really good.  I got back from England a few months ago.  It was great.”

“Great,” Leveque said again.  “Listen, the real reason I was calling, or than to check up on you, of course, is to ask whether you’d be willing to come back to your old alma mater and give a quick talk for one of my classes.”  Cat stared out of the small window in front of her desk with surprise. 

“Give a talk?”

“Just a quick talk, 45 minutes max, just explain about your research.  What you’re doing and how you got to where you are today.  You know how it is, Catherine,” Leveque added, sighing.  “Religion isn’t as popular as mechanical engineering or business.  These students need a boost, need to know that there’s a job out there for them somewhere!  And truthfully, you’re my best example.”

Cat was flattered.   “Yes, okay.  I’ll swing by.”

Leveque laughed on the other side with excitement.  “Fantastic.  The department chair will be happy to see you.  This Friday, 2:15 p.m.?”

“Sounds great.”

“I’ll see you then.  Thanks, Catherine.  See you real soon.”

That just meant she’d have to actually get her notes and research in order.  She glanced over her shoulder at the notebooks that rested on her bed.  I might actually have to clean, she thought with amusement, standing up.  She glanced at the clock on her computer and decided that it was time to take a study break, or as she often called it, a “food break.” 

When she wasn’t hunched over a computer, she was usually snacking on junk food.  Luckily for her, she inherited her mother’s skinny genes, and never seemed to gain a pound considering the amount of candy she ingested.  Her mother was frail, thin, and exuded a kind of restlessness that made her believe that her mother never slept or took a break for just about anything.  She’d always been that way, and since Dalia died, she had become worse.  Cat didn’t really keep in contact much with her parents, aside from the usual birthday wishes.  After graduation, she chose to remain in Virginia but settled on another side of town away from her parents. 

Some of her friends, who knew about Dalia’s death, chastised her, saying that she was childish for choosing to sever her ties with her parents over the accident.  Of course, they didn’t truly know the whole story, and they probably never would.

Cat found a half-empty box of Wheat Thins in her kitchen and set to munching on them while flicking through her notebook.  She leaned on the large, white counter in the center of her kitchen, popping the tiny crackers into her mouth.  To fill the silence in her apartment, she turned on the small television that rested in the corner next to her microwave.  The morning news came on, and she raised her eyes from her notebook to peer over her black, thick rimmed glasses at the screen. 

“The gas station had been leveled, and dozens of bodies were found when police arrived.”  A female news reporter stood in front of yellow police tape, and police cars flashed in the background.  She glanced over her shoulders at the flashing red and blue lights.  “Police and the FBI are currently investigating the source of the explosion, and to determine if it was the cause of death.  We now have an exclusive clip for you.  Some of these scenes may be inappropriate for young children.”

“Then don’t show it,” Cat muttered to herself, lowering her eyes to her journal again.  “That’s not a hard decision.”

“Closer, closer!” the woman’s voice hissed with urgency, and Cat looked up at the television screen again, curious.  The cameraman was hunched in a thicket of bushes, it seemed, and was trying to poke the lenses between the leaves.  When the bushes cleared, Cat was able to see two policemen who stood around one of the dead bodies.  They stood with their backs turned to the camera.

“Ever seen anything like it?” one of the muttered, shaking his head.  “What is it, the mark of a serial killer?”

“I don’t know,” the other one, bigger and bulkier than his partner.  “Might be.  I’ll have to send snapshots to the FBI and see if they have anything for this.  This is way above my paygrade,” he added uncomfortably.  “Where'd those agents go, anyway?"

“Somewhere back by the gas station.”  They left, muttering to themselves.  At that point, Cat had abandoned her wheat thins and notebook, and leaned on the counter with interest, wondering what was so “exclusive” about the clip. 

The cameraman stood up, and at the reporter’s urging, crept over the bushes, closer to the body.  When he got close enough, the camera zoomed in, the lenses focusing and un-focusing several times.  It was a woman, wearing a blue blouse and pants; her arms were laid out on either side, and her torso was twisted at an awkward angle.  In the middle of her torso, there was a hole, leaking blood.  Then, the camera panned out, and on either side of her were two black wings that extended directly from her shoulders.  It looked like they were burned into the ground.

The cameraman and reporter were both silent, and so was Cat.  She stared at the body, and the wings with a mixture of fascination and revulsion.  It was unlike anything she’d ever seen.  If there had only been a dead body, she might not have been so intrigued.  But the two large, black wings captured her interest more than anything.  They vaguely resemebled angel's wings.

The scene switched, and the reporter, who looked shaken, announced that she had several interviews from witnesses to the accident.  Cat remained in her kitchen a little longer and watched the interviews, munching on her crackers.  At least ten students, all college aged, spoke about the deafening explosion that leveled the gas station.  Some expressed remorse over the victims.  Well, almost all of them.

"Yeah, it's a damn shame," one of the students said, a dark-haired male.  He was big, brawny, and probably played football.  He shrugged his shoulders and gazed into the camera.  "Even more of a damn shame that woman was murdered."

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, lady?  She was stabbed clear in the gut.  Didn't see who.  It's pretty cool, though," he added, grinning.  "Murder and all that.  Now I get to live out my ultimate fantasy.  Witness."  He bounced on the balls of his feet, humming the theme song from Law and Order.  The prospect of being questioned by the police and lawyers a fantasy?  No one wants to live through that.  Cat had, and she despised the experience.  After the accident, she went to court with her family after her parents decided to sue the driver of the SUV.  The police were called to the stand to give their report, and then the driver.  Sitting in the back of the courtroom, she felt anxious, listening to the lawyers grill the witnesses over and over again.  How could anyone like that?

Cat skipped that part of growing up, being cocky and assured in nearly everything she did.  The student's attitude thoroughly pissed her off and she turned off the television to retreat to her room, munching her crackers the whole way.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Cat dressed herself in a sleeveless blue dress and a gray cardigan, packed her newly organized research into a black tote bag, and left the comfort of her apartment to returned to the University of Virginia.  It was her first choice because of its religion department, one of the best in the nation.  Her parents had been hoping that she would apply to MIT, but she threw the application into the trash the moment she saw it resting casually on the corner of the dining room table. 

She felt a familiar sense of homecoming as she walked the streets of campus, admiring the red bricked buildings where she’d spent numerous hours pouring over books and periodicals for her classes. Even though it was cold outside and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground, students still sat on the wooden benches outside, drinking steaming cups of coffee and chatting.  She had to hide a smile as she walked past them.

Upon entering Gibson Hall, her smile brightened.  If the library had been her second home, Gibson had been the first; she spent hours in there talking to her professors about research and holing up in empty classrooms to read.  The building hadn’t changed much since graduation.  It still smelled of Pinesol, a cleaning agent favored by the housing department.  Posters and flyers littered the walls, offering information about upcoming lectures and plays.  

Cat found room 213 fairly easily, and when she entered, the lecture hall was halfway full.  The room was abuzz as students walked into the large room, settling into cramped desks and pulling out notebooks or computers to take notes.  Bent over a table in the middle of the room was Dr. Leveque.  She recognized him by his brown leather jacket, which he always wore to every lecture, regardless of the weather, because the rooms were always cold.  

The buzz died down slightly when Cat entered, and she cleared her throat, hoping to get Leveque’s attention.  He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the sound. His face split into a wide smile, and he stood upright, opening his arms.  “Catherine!”

She smiled.  “Hello, Dr. Leveque.  Good to see you.”  He bounded forward, always full of energy, and then promptly introduced her to the class, promising that her talk would be incredibly interesting. 

_I don’t know about incredibly interesting,_ Cat thought to herself, setting up shop.  _We’ll see._

She began her talk introducing herself as Catherine Inoa, a graduate from the class of 2007, and currently in the midst of independent research.  Nervously, she promised them that her research wasn’t nearly as weird as it sounded. 

Her research was centered around the Watchers, a term used in connection with angels.  There were good watchers, and bad watchers.  At some point in time, according to the Book of Enoch, approximately 200 angels fell to Earth and procreated with humans, creating the Nephilim, giants who scoured the Earth, killing all in their path.  Uriel, one of the angels, warned Noah that God was going to send a flood to demolish them, so Noah built an ark to save the human race.  The Nephilim remained on Earth after the flood, and are bound to the earth until Judgment Day. 

As the talk continued, Cat became more and more engaged in her presentation.  She’d always been relatively successful at giving talks.  She was nervous at first, but once she found her sea legs, her voice lost its shakiness and became smoother, and more confident.  Dalia had once advised her that if she ever became a famous mathematics professor, knowing how to look and sound good during lectures was important.

None of the students interrupted her with questions until the very last minute.  She saw a white hand dart into the air, and she interrupted her explanation of the Nephilim.  “Yes?”  

“So, what exactly are you researching?” A young man had posed the question, and he had a bored expression on his face.  “This is interesting and all, but there’s no point to it.”  

Cat felt her cheeks warm at the bluntness of his question.  She cleared her throat to calm her steadily rising nerves, and slid her notes off of the projector Dr. Leveque had lent her for her talk.  Without a word, she rifled through her tote bag for another yellow manila folder, containing more notes.  The sounds of rustling paper filled the awkward silence, and then Cat slid the pieces of paper onto the projector. 

Her eyes were narrowed slightly when she looked up at the group of students.  “There is a particular section of the Book of Enoch that states there were 200 angels fell to Earth at the urging of Samyaza to procreate with humans.  But if you look here,” she said, pointing to the passage.  “It says _in all_ 200 angels.  To me, that’s like saying, ‘There were about 200 angels that fell to Earth, but there could be more.’ There is a possibility that there are more angels who fell, but chose not to follow Samyaza’s orders, for whatever reason.  Perhaps they escaped with Noah and hid themselves as ageless humans among the Earth.”

“‘In all’ sounds like 200 to me.”

Cat rubbed the back of her neck, sighing.  “The theory is seen as impractical and improbable by hundreds of scholars.  I’ve gotten several rejections from publishers myself.  But that one key piece of language is enough to me to pursue the possibility that there were more angels.  I’m simply trying to re-examine the language and determine if there are more, and what their names are, and why they did not follow their orders.  If more angels were discovered, it could potentially add another section to the Book of Enoch about their story.”

It was Dalia’s idea, and Dalia’s research.  While cleaning out Dalia’s room, Cat found a leather bound journal hidden underneath her mattress.  She spent the entire night reading through her work, and afterwards, she decided that she would study religion and continue her sister’s research.  The further she delved into the mystery the more interesting it became.  The journal was only halfway full, so she used it for her own notes.

“I know, I know, the entire theory sounds incredibly insane.  And it is,” Cat added, shrugging her shoulders.  “But I think it’s interesting and worth exploring.  What’s more fun than trying to read between the lines?”

The same student piped up.  “What if the lines aren’t meant to be read more than their face value?  That is, what if the Book of Enoch says that at least 200 angels fell, and that’s the end of it?  No story?” 

Cat tilted her head, her eyes creasing in confusion.  “You’re a religion major?”

“Not necessarily.”  He leaned forward in his chair, smiling. “I knew your sister, and thought the lecture would be interesting.  Considering she studied this stuff, too.”  

Cat said nothing, stunned into silence.  When she spoke again, her voice broke a little.  “Oh.  Yes.  She studied religion, too.  I’m just continuing her work, and pursuing the theory a little bit further.”  Her eyes darted around the room to gauge the students expressions.  They ranged from curiosity to disappointment.  “It’s what she would have wanted,” she added, a little bit quieter.  

She shut off the projector and quickly changed the subject.  “But to answer your question, these are questions that have to be answered.  If history was written and no one bothered to read between the lines, academia would die out.  Someone has to ask the questions.  Someone has to propose and contradict certain theories.”

From where she stood, she could see that his green eyes sparkled with amusement.  He leaned back, shrugging his shoulders in acquiescence.  Some of the other students turned to look at him, giving him looks of disapproval.  Cat bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.  Nothing ruins a lecture more than that one student who has to contradict the teacher. 

Dr. Leveque decided that her time was up, and thanked her for coming to visit.  Cat gave a quick little bow, pleased at the smattering of applause from the students, and then they began to file out of the lecture hall.  She took her time packing up her laptop and notes in case any of the students stopped by with questions.  From time to time she would peek up at the passing students, trying to catch their eye.  But each one walked past the table, talking about anything but her lecture. 

Her face fell, and she suppressed a sigh of disappointment.  Dr. Leveque left the room, needing to return to his office to get notes for this next lecture.  The room slowly emptied, and then Cat was left alone with her half-empty tote bag.  She stared without seeing into the contents of her folders, at the notes she’d compiled over the years, hers and Dalia’s.  If college students barely had any interest in her stories, who was to say that anyone would?  She still had rejection letters stuffed at the bottom of her desk. 

“I thought it was interesting,” a familiar voice said from above.  Cat looked up, and standing in front of her was the student who pestered her about her research.  He gave her a half-smile in apology.  “I didn’t mean to harass you so much about your theories.”  He was wiry and muscular, with dark hair that stuck up in every direction, and his green eyes vaguely reminded Cat of the grass on the old park where she and Dalia used to play.  

“It’s fine,” Cat said honestly.  “A little debate now and then is healthy.”  She was lying through her teeth, and she had a feeling he knew it from the way his lips twitched.  “I’m Catherine,” she said, sticking out her hand formally.  

He glanced down at her hand curiously, and then took her hand in his, squeezing it once.  “My name is Arael.”  

She did a double take at the name, and then raised an eyebrow.  “Arael?  Interesting name.  It means-”

“Lion of God,” they said at the same time.

“Are your parents religious?” 

Arael looked like he was fighting to hide a smile.  “You could say that, yes.”  His eyes dropped at the papers that rested on the table.  “Your theory is actually very interesting.  I’d love to learn more about it.”

He looked down at her conjoined hands, and Cat realized that they’d been holding hands for at least a minute.  She dropped hers, embarrassed.  Arael looked at his hand as if it were a fascinating object, and then wedged it into the pocket of his black jeans.  Cat busied herself putting the last of his notes into her back. 

“Do you live around here?” she said, after trying to come up with something to say. 

“I believe so, yes.”

Cat pursed her lips and buttoned her coat.  “You believe so?”

“Yes.”  Arael nodded quickly in affirmation.  “So it would not be a problem if you wanted to meet somewhere to discuss your research.”  Cat shouldered her bag, eyeing the student with slight suspicion.  “I would very much like to.”

“Don’t you have classes?”

“No.  This is my only lecture for the day,” Arael responded, motioning to the seats behind him.  “I am free to do what I like the rest of the afternoon.”

“Must be nice,” Cat mused, walking to the door.  She glanced down at her watch; it was 3:05 p.m.  All she really wanted to do was go home, back to the comfort of her apartment, and study in peace.  But apparently he was interested, and for once, it’d be nice to talk to someone who doesn’t find her completely crazy.  She looked at Arael, wondering if she could convince him to join her in her research.  An extra pair of eyes wouldn’t hurt.

“If you like, there’s the cafe at the union.  We could talk there,” she offered.

Arael smiled.  “I would love nothing more.” 

* * *

She settled in the corner of the cafe with Arael and placed the stacks of notes in between them for him to look at.  When she came back to their small table with a chai latte, Arael was already reading her notes.  Cat slid into her chair, wondering which part he was reading.  She opened her mouth to ask him, but she noticed the way his eyes were narrowed in concentration, so she kept quiet, choosing instead to look around the cafe where she had spent her time copying the Enochian alphabet for future reference. 

Cat was particularly fond of the union cafe because it was quiet and quaint and away from the normal loud buzz of students talking and munching on pizza and hamburgers.  The cafe wasn’t popular to the entire student body, which she liked, because it wasn’t always busy.  The walls and floor were made of polished wood, and soft jazz music filled the air, calming her. 

“This is...very good,” Arael muttered suddenly.  “Very, very good.”

Cat chuckled weakly.  “Thank you?”  

He raised his head, and he was serious.  “No, this is truly...excellent.  I’ve never seen such thorough research in my lifetime.  You’ve practically dissected every possible part of the Book of Enoch, down to the very letter.  I’m impressed.”  He flipped through another set of notes.  “You graduated in the department?”

“Yes,” Cat answered, slightly uncertain.  She’d noticed how since they’d arrived in the cafe, Arael’s voice had changed.  It was deeper, and he spoke unlike any college student she’d ever met.  He sounded as if he’d learned about the Book of Enoch when he was a child, or as if he were an expert on the matter.  That idea was impossible, because he looked no older than her.  She sipped her latte, pleased with her conclusion.  Perhaps he was just trying to impress her.  

Which wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.  The last relationship Cat had ended badly because he found her research and determined that she was a few notches short of crazy.

“I can tell,” Arael murmured in agreement.  “So you believe that there are fallen angels walking the Earth because they did not follow Samyaza.”

“Yes.”

“And that they chose to wander the Earth in human disguises.”

Arael tilted his head.  “How is that possible?”

Cat shrugged, setting the cup on the table.  “I don’t know.  Perhaps...took over a body?  I’m not sure if angels can truly change their form or not.  But there’s just something in there...” she motioned to the notes.  “I just have a feeling that there’s more to the story.”

Arael hummed in agreement, leaning back in his chair.  “Why do you wish to learn about the other fallen angels?” 

Cat shrugged again, unsure.  “It’s interesting.  It could shake up the field of religion.”  _It’s what Dalia wanted._

As if he’d read her mind, Arael added, “And it’s what your sister wanted, isn’t it?  She originally thought that there was more to the story.”

Bristled, Cat asked, “And how did you know her again?”

“A friend of a friend,” Arael muttered, dropping his gaze to look at her notes again.  “I did not know her all that well, but I do know she was very interested in religion.  Which leads me to my next question.”  He closed her folder and set it on the table delicately, and then leaned forward, clasping his hands together.  “Are you religious yourself, Catherine?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Just answer the question, please.”

Cat groaned, dropping her head into her hands.  “I knew it.  This is just a joke, isn’t it?” She raised her head.  “You don’t really care about any of this.  You’re not even a religion major, you told me yourself.”  She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair.  “Really embarrassing,” she added underneath her breath.  Her parents would be laughing right now if they were here.  

Arael hadn’t said anything in response, and that was enough for her.  She stood upright and gathered her notes hastily, swallowing her humiliation long enough to shove her folders into her black bag.  “Listen, I don’t like playing games.  And I really don’t like when people pretend to know my sister.”

“I did know your sister, I just told you,” Arael said quietly, meeting her gaze.  “Through a friend.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Cat said, buttoning up her jacket as quickly as she could to get away from him.  “No one knew my sister like I did.”  She shouldered her bag and left the cafe.  Cat took a deep breath to calm herself.  _Just being immature,_ she told herself, willing her racing heart to slow.  _Ignore it._

She glanced over her shoulder to see if Arael was inside, but he had disappeared.  She poked her head in quickly, looking at the few people who still sat inside, but he was nowhere to be found. 


End file.
